


when good men go to war

by Kandakicksass



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: All relationships are mentioned, Canon Compliant, Emotions about episode 1x5, Gen, baby ficlet, mentions of PDSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandakicksass/pseuds/Kandakicksass
Summary: Philippe's relationship with everyone around him is complicated, but in spite of everything, Henriette does love her husband.(AKA I wanted more in depth thought about Henriette's relationship with Philippe and this scene was a good catalyst for that.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this is nothing. I was just having feels and thought I'd share.

When Louis comes into their rooms, he looks… perhaps not surprised, but bemused at the sight of Philippe sprawled across her body the way he is. His cheek presses into her abdomen, his hair fanning around him and over her body, protecting what could possibly be left of her modesty in present company. 

Louis has heard tell of her husband’s exploits this evening, ridiculous and childish and worrying as they were. He tells her so, kneeling next to the bed. His fingers twitch once, as if he is tempted to reach out and touch Philippe's cheek. Before he can do anything of the sort, Philippe reaches out and chokes him, only briefly, before letting go again and patting his brother’s cheek once, roughly.

He’s so ornery and angry, something truly sharp in his tone that is new, even when speaking to Louis. Philippe has always had rough edges, but they’re cracked and bleeding now. Something changed in him after returning from war. There is a darkness in him that turned away even the Chevalier, who had never been pushed so far that he felt compelled to leave Philippe's side. 

Louis does not stay long, and Henriette doesn’t begrudge him for it. Once Philippe collapses back on her body, a single tear falls down her cheek that is for once not for Louis but for her husband. 

It has been a very long time since Philippe was willingly close with her like this, in what passes for genuine affection. Though their childhood had been spent as friends, Henriette’s relationship with Louis had caused a rift between them, and though Phillipe tried not to be overly bitter about it, she appeared to him often as one more thing of his that his brother had taken dominion over. Nevermind the fact that she had never been his. He hadn’t married her for love, or even of his own will. He’d married her because he could not marry his pretty boys and because his brother willed it so. The last part, she imagines, must have stung more than the rest. 

There’s an oversimplification there, she thinks as she strokes her husband’s soft, dark hair. An oversimplification because she  _ does _ love Philippe. She presses her fingers briefly into his cheek, strokes his smooth skin. She loves him very much, and where Louis is angry at his behavior, Henriette’s heart instead breaks. It did that, every so often. Philippe inspired her pity as children and he does so now. It’s more than pity - she sees him, and the hurt he carries, and she aches with him. His grievances, of which there are many, are fair. Her love of Louis doesn’t blind her to that. 

Henriette sometimes thinks that if Philippe had the inclination to look at her the way Louis did, they could have been great lovers. She weeps for him, brushing her fingers through his gentle curls, and though she is not in love with him now the way she could have been in a different world, she loves him so wholly and truly that his pain is impossible for her to bear. 

She cries, and for once does not cry for the king. She cries for his brother, and holds him.


End file.
